


Part Per Cross

by SerenadeStrong (ninja_orange)



Category: Band Sinister - K. J. Charles
Genre: Exhibitionism, M/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Roleplay, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:20:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21842074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninja_orange/pseuds/SerenadeStrong
Summary: Corvin has a much better idea for what to do with virgins than sacrifice them.
Relationships: Guy Frisby/Philip Rookwood, Lord Corvin/Guy Frisby/John Raven/Philip Rookwood
Comments: 28
Kudos: 131
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	Part Per Cross

**Author's Note:**

  * For [juliet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/juliet/gifts).



> Thank you plalligator for kicking this off and stultiloquentia for the beta

They had been living in London for several months now. Amanda, still taking instruction for conversion and thus still unmarried, had been installed with some sort of great-aunt of David's. At least in theory she was living there - she was found at Philip's or Corvin's houses as much as anyone else in the Murder. Today she was at Philip's house, apparently. When Guy came in to breakfast she was at the table, scribbling on some cheap paper with a bit of pencil while Corvin looked approvingly over her shoulder, a small plate of kedgeree in one hand and a fork in the other. 

Guy hesitated for a moment at the doorway. He was decent, but only just. It was half past 11. He'd woken up in Philip's bed about twenty minutes ago, and left Philip dozing while he went for tea. He'd pulled on last night's breeches and shirt and merely tied his cravat in a knot on his way downstairs. He had not bothered to take more than the briefest glance in a mirror, and he wasn’t sure if his limp collar hid the love bites Philip had left on his neck. Faced with his sister, just the thought of the possibility of a visible bruise had him frozen. 

He had just made up his mind to go back upstairs when Corvin looked up and met his eyes. Guy wavered, torn. Having been seen, it then felt too much like admitting fault to leave. He was still agonizing when Amanda noticed him a moment later.

"Oh, Guy, good morning," she said brightly. "Afternoon, almost." 

"Yes, quite," said Guy, embarrassed. He gave in and entered the room, feeling his own blush as he poured himself some tea and took an egg from the sideboard. He resisted the urge to check his neck in the shiny silver tea-pot. It was better not to know, so he could pretend he looked fine. Anyway, Amanda knew about Philip, and given the late hour and his appearance, she had to know something about why he’d been in bed so late this morning. A love-bite wouldn’t incriminate him in anything that all present weren’t well aware was going on. 

Either he looked more presentable than he felt, or Amanda was too focused on her writing to call attention to his dishabille. By the time Guy was at the table with his tea-cup, she was already back to her scribbles. 

"I'm so sorry, Covin,” she was saying. “I've already forgotten what you suggested after the discovery of the Rites of the Ancients.” The capital letters were clear as a bell.

"Lord Darkdown plays highwayman intending to steal the Amulet,” Corvin said as if reciting, “but sees Theophania in the carriage, knows he must have her, and takes them both to his castle.”

Amanda wrote this down furiously. “Yes, yes,” she said, as if what Corvin was saying were at all sensible. “And of course he desires her passionately but the pagan Rites need _virgin blood_.”

Guy sputtered, and had to fight not to choke on his breakfast.

“Oh dear,” said Corvin. “We’ve startled your brother.”

Amanda laughed.

“Not at all, it’s just — ” Guy took a breath and composed himself. The vivid images the phrase had brought to mind were not ones he wanted associated in any way at all with his sister. “I mean — ” — he cleared his throat and tried again — “I see you’re working on your next book.”

“Yes! I wrote Corvin yesterday with some ideas and he suggested I come over. Oh, hello.” The last was addressed over Guy’s shoulder, and he turned to see Philip in the doorway, smiling. Guy smiled back, Philip’s presence bringing calm like sinking into a hot bath. 

“Good morning,” Philip said. He was informally dressed but turned out very neatly, clean-shaven chin framed by a well tied cravat. “Books, is it?”

“Virgin sacrifices,” said Corvin.

Philip raised an eyebrow meaningfully at Guy, who blushed and quickly took a bite of toast to prevent himself from saying anything awkward.

~*~

The subject was dropped until that night, when Philip and Guy were joined by Corvin and John for a brandy.

“I can’t believe you were discussing _virgin blood_ over breakfast,” Guy said, after the conversation had been reenacted for John’s entertainment. 

“Virgin sacrifices,” Philip mused. “What a waste of a virgin.” 

“Mm.” Corvin made an acknowledging noise. “I think the sacrificing _of_ virginity might be more practical, don’t you think? Maybe I’ll write with a suggestion.”

“That’s,” Guy said, his mind racing as he absorbed what Corvin meant. “I don’t think you can put that in a novel. Not if you want to sell it over the counter. Besides, what do you — I mean, what would Lord Darkdown want with that.”

“Ah, a question for Falconwood, of course. What nefarious scientific purposes would he put it to?”

Philip snorted. “They both died in the last novel.”

“They’ve come back,” Corvin said. “Darkdown survived the fall and Falconwood returns to Darkdown’s side, ready to prove his loyalty.”

“Coming back from a fall like that is a bit much, even for a Gothic novel,” Philip said. “And even if he were there, what would he want with a virgin? Fucking’s not going to make the beets grow any faster.”

“Fertility? Something about seed?” Corvin suggested. “Use your imagination, my dear. Here you have a Dark Lord” — he gestured at himself — “a cunning though as yet unsuccessful inventor-scientist” — he gestured at Philip, who rolled his eyes — “the swarthy henchman” — John made an “up yours” gesture — “and a virgin, frightened of the unknown yet not, I think, unwilling.” He gestured at Guy, who felt himself blush despite the absurdity. 

“Here.” Corvin stood and took Guy by the arms. He led him gently to the middle of the room where a low table was covered in books, scraps of paper, and bits of pen trimmings. He swept all of that to the floor and lay Guy down on his back, his wrists held over his head, his legs dangling over the edge of the table. “Our virgin fertility rite.” 

Guy’s pulse hammered in his veins, beating against the loose grip Corvin had on him. He shifted his hips before catching himself and stopping. Then he looked at Philip, who was looking back with hot intensity. 

“A fertility rite for beets?” Philip said. He still sounded skeptical, though Guy could see interest in his eyes.

“ _Yes_ ,” Corvin said. “Now are you playing along or not?” 

“Guy?” Philip asked. 

“Oh, well,” Guy swallowed. “I don’t want to stop.” 

“Aha!” Corvin said, and grinned devilishly. In the low light of the room it looked truly frightening. He put on a voice of a villain Guy would expect to see in a truly awful play. “Now my dear, here is yon virgin I have caught for your unspeakable acts, what shall be done to him to raise the — the beets?”

“Corvin…” Philip sighed.

“None of us can keep a straight face if you do that, Corvin,” said John. “Nevermind keep an erection.”

Corvin made a face, but said in his normal voice this time, “Alright, in that case — gentlemen, let’s pretend I’ve caught us a virgin, to be despoiled in whatever way we deem fit, for whatever purpose we fancy. What shall be done to him?”

“Hm.” Philip looked at Guy thoughtfully. Guy would’ve sworn he could feel it on his body, his skin prickling as Philip’s gaze raked up and down. “Tie him down,” Philip said. “Strip off his clothes. Guy?”

“Yes?” Guy said. Corvin was already manhandling him into a sitting position to strip off his shirt.

“I think you oughtn’t spill your seed until I say so, is that alright?” 

“ _Yes_ ,” Guy said. They had played that game before, Philip doing his best to bring him to his peak while Guy tried desperately to hang on for one more minute. It had made the pleasure so sharp it was almost painful, and Guy loved it. 

Guy’s neckcloth was set aside to be used as rope, his shirt flung carelessly to the floor. As soon as it was off — and Corvin was a very quick hand at getting the clothes off a man — Guy was back on his back, his wrists tied together and then anchored around one leg of the table. Corvin pulled his pantaloons off with one long tug, like he was skinning a rabbit, and Guy was left splayed out and exposed, his cock red and stiffening against his thigh. 

He tugged a little at the bonds around his wrists, just to see what it did. It was tight but not unpleasantly so, just light pressure around his wrists if he pulled. More uncomfortable was the table, hard against his back and pressing against his buttocks, making him unavoidably aware of how he was being presented to his audience. But even that was more of a discomfort in his mind than any physical distress. He was so exposed, so helpless like this. He wished he knew what he looked like. Philip would look like a fallen angel, stretched out on his back with his fair hair pushed away from his eyes. Guy was sure he didn’t look half so elegant. He kicked, trying to get purchase on the ground to arrange himself in some better attitude, but his toes only just touched the ground and he was afraid he only looked more awkward, naked and squirming in front of the other men.

Guy looked at them then, hoping since he couldn’t see himself that he could at least read their reactions to him. Philip was sitting back in his chair, his legs crossed, one hand under his chin as he stared at Guy, like he was a problem he wanted to solve. Or no, Guy thought, as Philip smiled behind his hand and he met Guy’s eyes. _He looks at me like I’m a present about to be unwrapped._ And he wondered again what he’d done right to get a life like this. 

“Comfortable?” Philip asked.

“No, but I like it,” Guy said, and the pleasure already tingling inside him flared when Philip smiled.

“May I debauch him now?” Corvin asked. 

“Hm.” John’s eyes were keen and his expression one of delightful mischief. “You’re awfully fully clothed for that job. Wouldn’t you agree, Phil?” 

“Yes,” said Phil. “Take your own clothes off, Corvin. I’m sure the power of whatever ritual this is will be greatly enhanced by this.”

Corvin did so gladly, and when he was done, draped himself half over Guy, one knee between Guy’s legs and his prick bobbing in the air between them. “Delicious,” he said, half to himself, leaning down to whisper his lips over Guy’s neck. 

John cleared his throat peremptorily. “I think,” he said, “you shouldn’t use your mouth quite yet. Nor your hands,” he added, when Corvin reached for Guy’s cock. “But I’d still like to see you get our sacrifice closer to his completion.”

“Of course.” Corvin grinned and climbed atop the makeshift altar. 

There was a confusion of limbs for a moment. Guy wasn’t sure what Corvin meant to do to him, without mouth or hands, but Corvin moved with purpose, straddling Guy and lowering himself until his cockhead just brushed up the length of Guy’s stand. Guy cried out at the touch, and tried to get more, but with his arms bound and his legs dangling he had no leverage at all. He was at Corvin’s mercy as the other man rocked teasingly against him, nothing touching Guy’s skin except his cock. Corvin brushed over him again and again, stroking up his length and over his thighs, letting his weight drop to grind against him, then sitting up again to tease the hairs on Guy’s belly. 

Within minutes Guy was painfully aroused, his cock straining up toward Corvin. His whole body felt too tight, his skin hot, and he was crying out - mewling, really - every time he was touched. It was torture, and seemed to go on forever until finally, _finally_ , Philip spoke up. But it was not, as Guy assumed it would be, to give him any real relief. Instead he told Corvin to turn round, so Guy could suck his prick, and requested Corvin now use only his mouth - and on any part of Guy except his cock.

Guy, somewhat dazed, opened his mouth for Corvin’s member. It was not the easiest angle and he wanted the use of his hands, but he sucked at it as best he could as Corvin nuzzled Guy’s cock to one side to tongue at his balls. This was a new sort of torture. His cock, though ostensibly neglected, was stroked from time to time by Corvin’s cheek as he moved from Guy’s balls to the inner crease of his thighs and back again. Corvin’s prick in his mouth moved in counterpoint, thrusting against his tongue as Guy did his best to pleasure it. 

He couldn’t see much besides Corvin’s arse and the pale backs of his thighs, but if Guy turned his head he could just see Philip, legs spread in his chair, breeches buttoned but tented sharply over his own hard stand. He wished he could see more of Philip’s reaction, or John’s. By the feel of Corvin’s prick, thickening and twitching in his mouth, he was getting close. Guy felt like he could come at any second now, if Corvin licked him, or even breathed on his prick. He wanted to beg for it, but without letting Corvin’s prick out of his mouth all he could do was arch his back, moaning and closing his eyes against the pleasure and hoping Philip took mercy on him soon. 

Just when Guy really thought he’d expire if he couldn’t come soon, Corvin moved again at John’s command, moving off Guy entirely. Guy panted, staring up at the ceiling while he heard men move around him. He felt like he was floating, dizzy with the sudden absence of sensation. When he looked toward Philip, the other man had already stood, and was stepping forward to kneel next to the table. Guy struggled to sit up to meet him, forgetting for a moment his bound arms, but then Philip was there, leaning over and kissing him, tongue pressing and stroking, hands running over his nipples and waist. 

“Oh, Guy, my beautiful virgin,” he murmured, eyes sweeping over Guy’s bared skin. “Are you ready to be taken?”

“Yes,” said Guy. His voice came out rough and throaty. He cleared it and spoke again. “Please, please Philip.”

“Don’t come until Corvin does, can you do that?”

Guy nodded. “I’ll try.” He closed his eyes as Philip kissed him again, and then Corvin was between his legs, pressing his oiled cock into him, thrusting inch by inch until he was in to the hilt, then pulling back and ramming in again. Guy kept his eyes shut, whimpering as the movement inside him drove his pleasure higher and higher. He could feel Philip’s breath on his cheek, and when Corvin cried out and thrust again, even harder, Philip said, “Now, my love, now,” and Guy sobbed and let go, and let his orgasm wash over him. 

Someone had untied his hands by the time Guy felt like he could sit up again. Philip helped him off the table and took him to the chair, where Guy let himself be gathered into Philip’s lap. They kissed gently, the urgency gone — Philip seemed to have taken care of himself while Guy was distracted. Somewhere behind him, John and Corvin were talking. Guy couldn’t make out what they were saying, but he heard John’s laughter and the rustle of clothing. Corvin getting dressed or merely collecting a pile of linens to carry naked back to his rooms? Guy wasn’t sure, and didn’t really care. 

“How did that suit you?” Philip asked softly.

Guy let out a happy sigh. “It was _wonderful,_ ” he said. “Any time you have cause to sacrifice a virgin I am at your service.”

Philip laughed, and Guy smiled.

~*~

There was thankfully no sign of his sister at breakfast the next morning. Guy had stopped in the doorway of the breakfast room before going in, just as he had yesterday. It felt like he was forgetting something. He’d shaved today, and dressed respectably. Philip had gone down just before him, and was already at the table sipping coffee. Guy thought for another minute, and then realized all he was missing was his fear. A few months ago, after an impromptu…well, not quite _orgy_ , but something close enough he wouldn’t want to explain the difference, he would have been terrified. His mind would have found something to fret over, and he would have slunk down to breakfast worried that he’d acted wrong, or Corvin had resented his participation, or any number of nonsense things.

He still had those moments, or days, where his mind ran wild with fretting about things unlikely to come to pass, but this morning, he realized as he took a deep breath, there was none of that. Just trust, that Philip would be there for him. Trust that, if Corvin or John had disliked anything after the fact, they would merely suggest doing something different next time. 

It was a perfectly lovely feeling, being without that fear. 

Guy realized he had a smile on his face when Philip looked up and smiled back.

“How are you feeling, my darling?” he asked, when Guy had sat next to him at the table. 

“Oh…” Guy trailed off, still smiling, for a moment unable to put his feeling into words. “Very good, thank you,” he finally said. “And wonderfully shielded.”


End file.
